


interlude i: as it were the noise of thunder; come and see

by andthentheybow



Series: icarus is bullshit, that's why it's called mythology [4]
Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hopeful Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, no beta we die like my social life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:28:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28268394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andthentheybow/pseuds/andthentheybow
Summary: for the great day of his wrath is to come; and who shall be able to stand?(we will. we will stand.)or, the four horsemen of the apocalypse arrive, and some of them unknowingly choose their successors. their successors aren’t having it.
Relationships: Jschlatt & Toby Smith | Tubbo, Technoblade & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit
Series: icarus is bullshit, that's why it's called mythology [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2057166
Comments: 51
Kudos: 263





	interlude i: as it were the noise of thunder; come and see

**Author's Note:**

> don't be creepy about content creators, this is my interpretation of their personas, if they're uncomfortable it'll be taken down, etc etc
> 
> i know this isn't explicitly greek mythology but hey religious symbolism am i right  
> as the title says this is a brief interlude in the series because the idea of the four horsemen of the apocalypse is pogchamp and i couldn't get it out of my head

they roamed these worlds long before settling in this land. they are not gods, not titans; there is no zeus, no atlas. they are every sin rolled into one: they are the four horsemen of the apocalypse, and they have decided on this realm at last.

the first, their leader, is nothing more than a dream, one who has replaced his white skull mask with a smiley face. he is an adult’s nightmare, a child’s daydream. he cloaks himself in green rather than black and carries an axe rather than a scythe. where he goes, death follows.

the second retired a long time ago, traded his armor for a coat, his crown for a bucket hat. he passed the mantle down to his son, his fellow emperor, who was already called the god of blood and called that for a reason. he is the instigator, violence incarnate, here for chaos and anarchy and downfalls and battle. where he goes, war follows.

the third is not starvation in the traditional sense. the third is greed and envy and lust all rolled into one, a hunger for power that can never be quenched. he wears business suits and fills the bellies of the people with good food and the desire for more; it is not enough, it is never enough. where he goes, famine follows.

the last is a sickness that spreads and covers the land, sickness not of the head but of the mind, dragging even the strongest and most brilliant sources of light down into the darkness. his music is heard all across the land and weighs heavy on the hearts of those who hear it. where he goes, pestilence follows.

they arrive in the world at different times, harbingers of destiny and bloodshed. death is the one to create the world, and pestilence is the first to follow. they start their work early, trying to drag the others out by playing against each other and going to war, and the truth is, they don’t even know what they’re doing.

the truth is, they don’t even know that they’re the horsemen of the apocalypse; o pale horse, your rider has fallen off the trail, never to return. they don’t know that they’re the portents of doom, that every time they draw a tarot card they get the tower. over, and over, and over again. destruction. chaos. the End.

famine and war arrive eventually. that’s how it goes. where one horseman is, the rest follow.

and they destroy the world.

they work together even as they’re working against each other. no matter what moves they make, the others are there to counter them. they pick and choose sides and switch those sides as easy as pie because they’re not on anyone’s side, really, in the end. team chaos, and all that.

dream is death. dream has always been death. he has never known it.

death cannot be prevented. death itself can never die. so dream will hold the title for all eternity, and he will wear it like a crown on his head, a mask on his face, an axe at his side. he is death, he is new beginnings, he is the end.

techno is war. techno has not always been war, the title passed down from philza. others call him the blood god and he lets it happen. he has always known it.

war cannot be stopped, cannot be contained. even if men are not going to war with each other, they are going to war with themselves. war is never-ending, it just takes new forms now and again. techno is that form now, and one day he may let go, but today is not that day.

schlatt is famine. schlatt has not always been famine and will not always be famine. he sees himself as greed, as lust, as envy, not as starvation. he does not think of his hunger for power and  _ more _ as the famine that it is. he does not think of the way he turns others around him toward desire for the same things.

famine can be prevented, if the people work hard enough at it. but they don’t. those with the resources hold onto them tightly. famine takes many different forms, but it can be killed, so when schlatt dies, he passes the title down.

he passes the title down to tubbo, who takes it and holds it in his hands like it is something fragile, something that can break. he calls tubbo his right-hand man and then war shoots the kid in the chest and tubbo  _ lives _ . tubbo takes the famine and he makes it his own. he makes it a hunger for love, a hunger for family, a hunger for keeping those safe around him. schlatt does not know, but tubbo does, and tubbo is able to make something better.

wilbur is pestilence. wilbur, like schlatt, has not always been pestilence. the title rots like a sickness in his mind. he has no crown, no cape, only a beanie and trench coat and a manic glint in his eyes as he succumbs to the waves that plague him.

pestilence can be prevented. there are cures for disease, both of the body and of the mind. but some people refuse to see them, some people refuse to recognize that the disease is even there in the first place. wilbur recognizes it and he does not do anything to stop it, he allows it to kill him, and when he goes, he passes the title down to his younger brother.

and tommy sees pestilence and thinks  _ no, this won’t do _ , and like tubbo, turns it into something better. pestilence does not only mean sickness, it means something destructive, something harmful, something evil. and tommy- tommy is destructive, but he is not harmful. he is not evil. they may see him as a pest, but he is not. he will destroy their misconceptions of him, he will harm those who dare hurt his friends. he will take the pestilence and spread it across the land, he will spread the disease of  _ love _ . and fuck anyone who tells him that he can’t. wilbur knows and does nothing; tommy knows and does everything.

dream, techno, schlatt, wilbur- they all switch sides like nobody’s business. tommy and tubbo have always been on one side: their own. they care about their discs, their bees, their friends, each other. they do not care about apocalypses and end times and horses coming through the gates of hell, broken seals. some day the world will cry out, “for the great day of his wrath is to come; and who shall be able to stand?” and they will say  _ we will. we will stand. _

for apocalypses are not only brought about by the bad. death, war, famine, pestilence; they are not the only signs of the end times. there is one more sign, and tommy and tubbo hold it in their hands; not a crown, but a compass.  _ hope. _

there is a fifth horseman of the apocalypse, and the children hold its title. they are the chosen ones, the heroes, and they will not be destroyed. they will not be contained. they will bring an end to the famine and the pestilence and they will fight war and death for as long as hope remains running through their veins.

and some day the seals will be broken, and a great voice will cry out  _ come and see _ , and they will say  _ no _ , and beat back the apocalypse another day.

**Author's Note:**

> please validate me


End file.
